Chapter 58 Negotiating with a Carnation
FIFTY-EIGHT
Negotiating with a carnation
LILA
Well, well, well. So Silas–CarMax–Carnitas, or whatever he wants to be known as, won’t surrender until he sees me.
Whatever. Bring it on, Carnation.
I knew the government moved at glacial speed, but this is ridiculous.
It’s been an hour since SSA Chase’s boss called to request that I become human bait. And I use the word request loosely.
I would’ve come anyhow. The thinly veiled threat to change what they’d shared with the federal prosecutor about my criminal activity was overkill. Once he told me about the incapacitated agents, I understood where they were coming from.
If Reed were in there, I’d want him to have someone willing to stop up for him.
Bianca and Aaron sprang into action to drive me to the scene at lightning speed.
Then we arrived. All forward progress halted.
Speaking of the car ride, it was refreshing to be the calm one for a change.
Bianca kept shaking her head, muttering, “This is insane.”
Meanwhile, Aaron was fuming that they were talking to the gang leader in the first place. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” he growled in that delicious Rio rasp.
Perhaps that’s true for the military, but the FBI seems to be a fan of the practice.
Sitting patiently in the corner of the FBI’s version of an RV, I wonder if any of the people buzzing around contemplated the possibility that I’d need to meet with the terrorist in order to bring this to an end. I can’t be the only one who saw this coming. Right?
Caracas told Reed his conditions in that snarky text earlier today. Why did they think he’d change his mind simply because they found his house?
If you didn’t figure it out by now, I refuse to call Silas that preposterous gang name. Not even mentally.
I can’t wait to tell him to his face how dumb it sounds.
Maybe I’ve got some barnacle goose inside me after all. Either that, or one day with Kri was enough to affix my big girl panties permanently. She must have air-brushed them on me when I wasn’t looking, using her ninja skills.
It’s hard to believe I’m the cowardly girl who hyperventilated at the mere idea of riding a motorcycle. I’m unsure how I got here or how long this confidence will last.
All I know is I’m absolutely fed up with life turning me into a pathetic victim in need of a savior.
I’m over being helpless and frightened. Done believing I’m not attractive enough. Not smart enough. Strong or brave enough. Thin enough. Successful enough.
Who decides those things anyhow? What peapod-licking shart dragon set the bar and told me I’ll never reach it?
Screw that.
I’m shaken out of plucky thoughts of grandeur when I catch Reed looking at me from across the rig. He doesn’t look so good.
Emotionally, I mean.
Physically, he’s a snack, appetizer, entrée, and dessert. Despite the severity of the situation, I can’t help drooling over the idea of him filling me up until I’m utterly stuffed. Get it?
Jokes aside, he’s vibrating with desperation and frantically searching for a way to avoid allowing me to go in there.
While I’m eternally grateful that he loves me enough to stand up to his bosses, I don’t need him to fight this one for me.
Today, he’s learning a hard lesson. The same one I tried to teach him way back on the night I felt him up and swiped his keys. He can’t force people into compliance. Control is a myth. Assuming you’ll ever have it is foolhearted.
Bianca is in the thick of a spirited discussion with Reed, their boss, and her boss. Some other bosses were thrown in the mix too. A boss inception, if you will.
Agent Dad watches from the sidelines with a few others I recognize from the casino party.
Reed stiffens, reluctantly turning to face me. The dread etched on his face has obliterated his dimples. Oh no. My preciouses. They’re gone.
Okay, now I’m pissed.
Nobody puts my baby’s dimples in the corner.
I rise from the chair at the same time he advances toward me. We meet in the middle.
“They’re willing to give us one last chance to negotiate by phone. I’m hoping Carnage will talk to you. Are you up for that?”
I answer eagerly. “Absolutely. Give me a phone.”
In response, he stoically places his hand on my lower back and guides me to the other side of the table.
Bianca offers me a reassuring half smile. “Have a seat here, Lila.” She slides a tripod-shaped electronic device across the table. “The call will connect through this speaker. I sent a text to the phone he’s been using to let him know you’d be calling. Hopefully, he’ll answer.”
I clasp my hands and rest them near the speaker phone. “Got it.”
SSA Chase leans over the table, propping herself up by her fingertips.
“The goal of the call is to get as many hostages released as possible without offering yourself in exchange. He wanted you here, and we delivered you to the outskirts of his property. Inform him that’s our compromise, but we refuse to send you any closer without a show of good faith on his part.
Let’s see how he reacts to that, and we’ll go from there.
Jabali doesn’t need to know you’re willing to go inside. ”
I see I’m not the only one refusing to call him Cannoli.
Reed’s hand curls into a fist. Other than the flinch, he’s been a tense shell of a man. As if he’s cast in stone.
Unable to resist, I take his hand to offer unspoken reassurance. He doesn’t entangle our fingers or hold my hand in return. He doesn’t brush me off either. But I don’t let go.
I’ll never let go again.
Chase continues her instructions. “Keep him calm and talking. The longer he’s on the line, the more we’ll learn about the conditions of the people inside or what he wants out of this standoff.
We need to wear him down, but not so much that he takes out his frustrations on the hostages.
It’s a balance, and we’ll be here to help you through it. ”
“This button will mute the call so you can ask us anything,” Bianca informs me, pointing to a button clearly marked MUTE.
Perhaps she thinks I’m illiterate. Entirely possible given the side of myself she’s seen so far.
That was the old Lila, though.
I sweep my gaze around the room. “What types of things should I talk to him about?”
Reed lowers into the seat on my left, finally shedding his cold, rigid aura.
He scoots close, putting one arm on the back of my chair and the other on the table.
“Ask if the hostages are alive or if any of them need medical attention. Ask what it would take for him to turn himself in and end this without further violence. Ask what we can give him for releasing the hostages, such as a helicopter or vehicle, with the promise of us not pursuing him. That’s the type of thing we need to know. ”
SSA Chase jumps back in. “Thus far, his only demand is to see you and Hayes. Nobody here wants it to come to that. However, by our count, he’s holding at least twenty-three innocent people. Some with children or . . .”
As her words trail off, she flares her nostrils, and her lips roll as if she’s combating emotions. Her eyes darken with anguish, giving me a glimpse of her inner tumult and concern for those in danger.
She isn’t a rock, even if her skin is made from stone. There’s a compassionate woman in there who values human life.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell her. “I want to get them out safely as much as you do.”
I cut myself off before I add, maybe more to the end of my sentence. This isn’t a competition to see who cares the most.
She gives me a subtle nod, then wraps up her directions succinctly, all her emotion back in hiding. “Hopefully, he’ll tell you more than he told us about the conditions inside. Just try to relax and do your best to bring this to an end without anyone else getting hurt. Good luck.”
Reed rubs my shoulder soothingly, his silent support unwavering. I trade gazes with him, trying to telegraph my love for him. And my resilience.
I turn to Bianca. “I’m ready.”
And I am.
“Quiet, everyone. We’re making the call,” Chase announces.
A blanket of silence settles over the room, quickly replaced by the ringtone emitting from the speaker.
In crystal clear sound, a chillingly familiar voice answers. “Is she here?”
Refusing to show an ounce of fear, I respond confidently. “I’m here, Silas. Or I guess I should call you Jabali.”
His voice slides into a richer tone, immediately skeeving me out. “There’s my precious girl. About time. I missed hearing your sweet voice.”
Bile rises in the back of my throat. “Is Kenzie alive? What about the other hostages?”
“When you come in, you’ll see for yourself. Bring her brother with you. I have something I need to ask him. Face to face. Man to man.”
Reed sharply inhales and squeezes my knee. I slip my hand under the table to steady him with my touch.
“I can’t do that, Jabali. You asked the FBI to bring me here. They did their part of the deal. Now you need to release the hostages.”
He laughs diabolically, sending a chill along my spine. “Is that what they told you? That I would release hostages if you came to the property line and talked to me on a phone from inside their armored bus? You know me better than that, Lila. I’d never agree to those terms.”
“What do you want, then? How can we end this without anyone else getting hurt?”
“Bring your fine ass up the driveway and grace my home with your presence,” he challenges, gritting out the last few words. It seems his artificial nicety is fading fast.
He raises his voice, tone cold as ice. “That’s what I want. You. Here. With this bitch’s brother. I’m getting fucking tired of repeating myself. Do I need to kill a hostage to prove my point?”
“No, don’t do that.”
Keep him talking.
“I’ll make it painful. If you want to prevent it, then prove it. You and Kenzie’s brother. Here. Now.”
“Why do you want Reed?” I ask, my protective instincts firing.
“He’ll find out when he gets here, same as you.”